Saturday, September 27, 2014

Outward; Part Three

"I am something that I used to be. I am never where I feel I am, and if I seek myself, I don't know who's seeking me. My bordeom with everything has numbered me. I feel banished from my soul."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. It's okay he tells you you don't have to answer the question if you don't want to. But you want to. At this point you don't even know if that's what you want. Do you want to go home? The question slams itself at you. Do you want to go home? The question grabs your shoulders. It digs it's claws into you. The claws pierce your skin and you can feel blood race down your arms. Do you want to go home? You don't know you tell him. The question draws it's claws back. There are marks where they were. Blood is still flowing out, but you don't feel pain. You feel good. You feel like a balloon letting off air. You feel like you're floating. Are you dying you ask. Detox the man laughs. You haven't heard a laugh in a while. Nothing here makes sense he continues but that's not to say any of this is real. What do you mean you ask. When you think something where does the thought go? Your mind the man says shoots out thoughts. Some are fireworks that explode midair while others only fall back down to the ground. They never go back to where they originated. Where do the thoughts go he asks again. You think. You watch the thought. It spirals into the air, a trail of bright red sparks. The sky is dark and then there is a crashing sound. You now see several colorful fireworks. A smoke follows them and you follow the sparkly debris. You're running chasing fleeing towards them. The man tells you not to wait for him. He yells you will do great things. Your breaths are short and your legs are beginning to hurt, but you have to get to the sparks before they vanish into the ground. Spikes of pain shoot up the balls of your feet into your knees into your thighs into your chest. The sparks are falling slowly, but you're no where near them. They seem to grow farther and farther away from where you think they would have landed. The sparks disappear. You stop running. You collapse onto the ground. Your hair is wet plastered to your forehead. Beads of sweat roll off your face and hit the ground next to your ear. You can hear your heart beat it sounds like a piano falling down a flight of stairs. All of the sudden you hear a whirling noise. You turn your body so you are now fully facing the sky. Asteroids of ginormous sparks slowly fall towards you. Are you ready you hear the man ask. No you say. Then let's go.
The ground beneath you that kissed your body opens up and swallows you whole. You slide down it's esophagus and pass through it's heart that beats slowly. You feel every lub every dup your hearts sync. You're in it's lungs now. They contract and relax and you close your eyes and hang out there for a little. You find a quiet spot near an artery. Bringing your legs close to your chest you've forgot your're claustrophobic. Surprisingly being here makes everything seem so much like a small box. Like a cupboard. Like a closet. Life itself seems to fit perfectly into the smallest jewlery box. Into the smallest coin purse. It seems to fit into a small cell in a small tissue in a small organ in a small organ system in a small organism. When you open your eyes there is a man standing there. He has a dark brown beard and is wearing a yellow suit. He looks familiar though you have never seen him. Are you ready to go he asks. You recognize him now he was the invisible man. He is the invisible man. How come you can see him you ask. You can see? Of course you can you say you have a dark brown beard and a yellow suit on. What color are his eyes. They are grey. What is your name you ask him. He opens his mouth, but closes it right away. It's time you know the truth. What a silly name. 
Lights flash before you. They are bright white lights. They flash in different directions. You're in a tunnel of these lights. They fly by you now. The man grabs your hand and tells you to keep close. It's Zeke by the way. Your name it slips your tongue. It's okay he tells you. You don't need to know just yet. When the lights stop flashing you realize you're in a dining room of a large estate. Sitting at the head of the large table is a woman with long black hair. On her plate a syringe. To her left is a tall man with small eyes. On his plate a sign. Next to him is a shorter man with a black eye. On his plate a gun. Sitting to the woman's right is a wolf. In front of him a bowl of water. Next to the wolf is a tiny old woman. In front of her is a pair of glasses. Zeke motions for you to sit across the table in front of the woman with the long black hair. 
Do you remember your home the lady begins. Do you remember your mother or your father? Do you remember the flowers your parents planted by your windowsill? No. No. No. Come now, think. It's a cream colored house you say with red shutters. Her name is Anne and his name is Wilbur. Tulips they planted tulips. No the lady says you're lying. You turn away stare at a wall. What's your name she asks. Sam. Lie. Why do you keep lying. She is calm. She looks you in the eyes she doesn't want to give you a hard time. You can trust us. Do you know why you can trust us? Do you want to guess? Your eyes swell with tears.

Because we're you. You formed us in the deep abyss of your mind and we escaped to the surface. We're all parts pf you. Parts that you love parts that you hate. The truth is, none of this is real. You haven't chosen a door yet. You are standing at the doors avoiding a choice whos difficulty is hard to determine. All this is a product of a wild imagination. Don't cry. Please don't cry. 
How do you get back you ask.
You never left.
There is darkness. A calm.
There is light. A cold chill dances across your body. 
There are two doors in front of you. The doors are both white and have a stainless steel door knob. You notice a glimmering light seeping out from under the one on the right and a subtle rumbling sound coming from the the left.  You can't see what's behind either of the doors, but you have to choose one of them to move on.
There is a space between the doors. It is a wide enough space. You're hands are beginning to sweat. Which door will it be? Right or left left or right. 

You choose not to choose. You run straight on into the space between the doors. Where is your home? You are your own home. What is your name? Your name is Lydia Victor and you run as fast as you can. You never look back. 

Monday, September 1, 2014

Onward Illustrations by Susan B.

There are two doors in front of you. The doors are both white and have a stainless steel door knob. You notice a glimmering light seeping out from under the one on the right and a subtle rumbling sound coming from the the left.  You can't see what's behind either of the doors, but you have to choose one of them to move on.

As you continue on your way you realize that you're in a hospital hallway. Lights start to flicker on a people start to appear. They're walking out of rooms and into other rooms in a synchronized fashion. No one seems to notice you're there. The exit signs point at each other and there seems to be no way out so you sit in a chair and watch the people go in and out in and out in and out in and out.

When you come up there is a figure in the bathroom with you. He stands a mere 5 feet tall and shivers with a gun in his hand. Before you can utter a breath, he raises the gun. He turns away and pulls the trigger. The bullet hits you right in the center of your chest. This is something his boss with pay him a little extra for when he takes your body to him. You stay in the tub and decide to finish your bath as he lifts your body out of the tub.

You call to the wolf. It doesn't budge. Eventually the wolf gives in and joins you in the water. On contact, the wolf becomes one with the water. You don't see it, but you know that you're not alone in the ocean. You can feel the wolf swimming in the ocean protecting you from whatever may be out there. The water feels good on your skin. 

Illustrations by Susan B.

Text message conversation:
Me: Do you have any words you'd like me to put on your behalf?
Susan: I guess just illustrations by Susan B.
Me: Is that all?
Susan: ._. I didn't really think about what I should say about them. Eh, it's your blog so just kinda say whatever you want ._. Like I said I just kinda did them from inspiration from your story, Spirited Away, and Natasha Allegri's work ._. ._. ._.

Thinkin bout after

Inward; Part Two

You're staring at your hands while you listen to the tiny old woman clear her throat. She's about to tell you something. A reason to all this madness would be nice you think. What is she going to say? What is going on? Why do these employees keep asking you if you need something? An answer is what you want to tell them. A freaking answer. She is out of the recliner chair and motions at you to follow her. She leads you through a large metal door with blinking red lights surrounding it. You're on an airplane runway now. She stops walking. It's quiet now. You're about to ask her what's going on when she tells you to keep quiet. For the your sake, you do as she says. You're quiet. Your breathing slows down. Your lungs expand one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, seven Mississippi, ten Mississippi. They compress fifteen Mississippi, twenty four Mississippi, one thousand and fifty four Mississippi. What's your name again? You can't remember. A man was holding it on a sign at the airport a while ago. How did you recognize it? Or were you just desperate for some attention? You can't remember. The tiny old woman grabs your hand. She whispers something in your ear. Just wait she says you'll be out of here soon. Her mouth didn't move though. How did she do that. Could she read minds? Can you read minds you think. Yes she says. What's going on here? What are we waiting for? Your ride is almost here she says. You're getting out of here. You're going far far away from here. But the ocean and the wolf you can't just leave them. They were you friends. You will make more friends. You will swim in cleaner waters and with more loyal wolves. A bus pulls up and you and the old woman climb into it. The lady takes a safety pin out of her pocket, pricks her finger, and drips two drops of blood on to the floor of the bus. The bus drinks up the woman's blood and her wound heals. She takes your hand as you look for seats we must all make sacrifices she says. There are many people on the bus. They wear business suits and talk to each other their words backwards. You notice the way they sit. Their backs straight feet planted firmly on the floor, eyes unblinking holding intense contact with their partner. Every now and then one of the partners won't say anything. All the conversations will then stop and the there will be a quiet null that oozes through the bus. Then someone will say something again and everyone is back to their backwards talk. What are they talking about? They talk about the weather, what Debbie did at the staff meeting, where they're taking their wives for their birthdays, the ending of Lost, D-list celebrities, what kind of cereal they switched to last Monday, what their neighbor told them, what grade their child got on their mathematics exam, new remedies for baggy eyes. They compare their suits, their shoes, their kids, their spouses, their incomes, their time shares, their majors, their minors. They talk, but they don't listen. They listen, but they don't understand. They understand, but they don't care.
The road is now bumpy and the bus seems to be both in and out of control. The bus is driving through a path in a forest. The branches of trees are scraping the windows. The driver you now notice is a tiny old man with glasses larger than his face. He looks like a giant pair eyes now that you think of it. His feet barely reach the pedals. The old woman you're with is facing in his direction focusing on the driver. Maybe their friends. Maybe they spend their weekends together watching cooking shows. They don't seem like bad people. They don't seem like anything. You're ears finally pick up on music playing in the bus. What is it? It sounds like a viola. You once heard one in a school performance. The girl held it's bow to the instrument the way a chef holds a knife to an onion. She would cut into it and like the odor of an onion, the sound would bring tears to your eyes whether you wanted them to or not. Where is the girl? Does she still play? There is a screeching noise and then it is quiet. The bus has come to a full stop. The business suited people get up and into a single file line. They're still talking backwards, but they keep their voices low. Outside of the bus is a doe. It is waiting for all the people to step outside of the bus. The tiny woman beside you tells you it's not quite time to leave you must stay on the bus. Once all the people are out of the bus, the doe stands on her hind legs. She is looking at all the people. She sniffs all of them. Randomly she'll push one or two of them to the floor. They will struggle under her, but she is persistent. One of them cries. The doe is annoyed and walks over to them. Her eyes are big and black. She stares into their eyes and they are hard as a rock. How is she doing that? She's just a doe? They could easily take her down, but they don't and that worries you. They follow they doe into the forest. The woman tells you that it will all make sense in time. The engine starts up again and the bus is in motion. It is going deeper into the forest. It's getting dark and you think about the ocean and the wolf. You wonder where they are and what they're doing. Maybe they've forgotten about you already. Found someone else to swim with them. You're mad at them now. If they cared about you and loved you why didn't they want you to stay. The lady on the bus holds your hand. Her hand is warm. You close your eyes. There is a crashing noise, but this time you don't bother to see what it is. There is a shattering noise, but you continue to not look. It is cold now. The warmth of the lady's hand fades. It is replaced by something that is hard and cold. There is a thud noise. There is another thud noise. Don't open your eyes a voice says. It is low and a little on the raspy side. You don't open your eyes. What are you you say to the voice. You are calm. Walk towards my voice. The voice is coming from the left.
You open your eyes you are alone. Can you see me the voice says. You're looking around there is nothing. Come on look harder you're right in front of it it tells you. You take a step back. There is a faint outline of a man. He is tall and transparent. You can see where he starts and ends, but the details in between are unclear. Who are you you ask. Where is the old woman. This is no time for questions. Why is everyone in such a rush what's happening. Stop asking questions if you already know the answers. But you don't know the answers you tell him defensively. You can't remember how you even got here. You can't remember your name. Lower your voice. Louder, no. Angry now, lower your voice. Louder, why. Yelling now, I will end you if you don't lower your voice you arrogant swine I will carve you up and I will sell your parts don't test me I have seen the world and all that is beyond you can not see me because you cannot see anything. You just want to get out of here. You want to go back to the life you had before this. Things were easy then. Your decisions were made for you you never had to worry. Do you want your life back the man asks. You think about that one.